Pennies, Pocket Lint, and Promises
by Ayiana2
Summary: Jack and his favorite fishing pole in Atlantis. What more could a girl want?


**Title**: Pennies, Pocket Lint, and Promises

**Author**: Ayiana

**Category**: Vignette, Romance

**Pairing**: Sam & Jack

**Author's Note**: This was written for the sjfanfic10 community on Live Journal in response to the poem prompt that appears at the end of the fic. Many thanks to daisycm83 for her beta help.

**Summary**: Jack and his favorite fishing pole in Atlantis. What more could a girl want?

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Jack leaned back, stretched out his legs, and tugged his cap down over his eyes. The fishing pole drooped in his hands, angled lazily toward the passing waves. Beside him, a gleaming silver bucket held three bottles of his favorite beer, a quantity of ice, and a small container of fresh bait hijacked from the commissary. He closed his eyes, lulled by the rhythmic sounds of the water.

Sometime later, the sound of approaching footsteps brought him out of a light doze. There was no need to open his eyes; he knew that stride the way he knew his own heartbeat.

"Pull up a chair, Carter. Take a load off."

She didn't respond, but he was pretty sure he knew what she was thinking. She'd probably noticed him from one of the terraces and come down to see what he was up to. And now she was giving him one of those quizzical looks of hers, the kind she always gave him when he did something she found particularly puzzling.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"I'm fishing." He made a mental note to bring a beach umbrella next time.

"Here?"

"Why not?" The question puzzled him. "I've got water, a pole, and plenty of cold beer. What else does a guy need?"

"Do you think you'll catch anything?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." He shrugged. Catching anything wasn't the point.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her squat beside him, her gaze on the water. "Did you hear about that accident McKay had with the puddle jumper a few months ago?" She asked.

"Yeah." He didn't tell her that he knew McKay credited her with saving his life.

"So you know about the giant fish."

"They're sure it was a fish, then?"

She made an impatient gesture. "Whatever."

"Yep," he said. "I heard about it."

"Did you at least check the database before you came out? I mean, for all we know, this water could be infested with some kind of giant piranha."

The thought amused him. He pictured an overgrown cartoonish creature leaping out of the water to devour him in a single greedy gulp. "Come on, Carter. You know how I love surprises."

She huffed quietly and gave up. Long minutes passed in companionable silence. Then she shifted, and he glanced over to see her taking off her shoes. "If you can fish," she said. "I can get my feet wet." She rolled up her pant legs and dangled her feet over the side of the dock. Sunshine glinted off pink toenails just before they disappeared in the crest of a wave.

"Mmmm," she sighed, "that's nice."

"See?" He tried to ignore the effect of her low moan on certain parts of his anatomy.

Leaning back, she tilted her face up to the sun. "The ancients knew what they were doing when they settled here."

It wasn't often that either of them got a chance to relax like this. Too much of their time was spent saving the world, he in Washington, and her God knew where. For once, circumstances had landed them both in the same place at the same time, and he intended to take full advantage of it.

He reeled in his line and set the pole down on the dock. Slipping his shoes off, he put them aside, then slid out of the chair to squat on the dock beside her.

"Mind if I join you?"

She smiled. "I think there's enough water to go around."

His shoulder brushed against hers when he lowered his feet into the water. "It's warmer than I thought it'd be."

"You aren't in Kansas anymore."

"I don't think there's an ocean in Kansas, Carter."

"You know what I mean." She kicked her feet, and liquid diamonds shimmered in the early evening sun.

"You like it here, don't you."

"It's peaceful."

"I hear it gets exciting when the wraith pay a visit."

She snorted softly. "I meant life in general. It's quieter here, slower. And God knows it's cleaner."

He nodded. "Good place to build a cabin."

"Ori back home, wraith here... When would you use it?"

"You mean when would _we_ use it. And the Air Force isn't a lifetime commitment."

She looked at him, surprised. "Are you suggesting I quit?"

"No, but there _is_ life beyond the Stargate."

"It's what we do, Jack."

He loved it when she used his given name. She didn't do it often, even after all the months they'd been together, and almost never when they were on a mission.

"No," he said. "It's what _you_ do."

"So you've decided, then?"

"Yep. I'm passing the torch." They'd talked about this before, batting the idea back and forth whenever the strain of their long distance relationship got to be too much, but something had always held him back. Until today. Today the warm sun had seeped into his creaky places, the ocean breeze had murmured sweet nothings in his ears, and he'd finally acknowledged that he was truly ready to move on.

"You aren't quitting because of me, are you?"

The two of them were forever taking turns worrying about each other's careers. It might've been amusing if it weren't so damned serious. "No," he said, and then unable to resist goading her, "or at least I'm smart enough not to tell you so."

"Jack..."

"Relax. It isn't because of you."

She grew quiet, her gaze on the water again, and Jack wondered what she was thinking.

Several minutes passed while they stared out over the water and thought their own thoughts. "Took a trip to the mainland with Sheppard today," he said at last.

"Oh?"

"It's a lot like Minnesota, only warmer and without the mosquitoes."

"Sounds nice."

"I thought so." He waited a beat. Then, "Good place to build a cabin."

She looked over at him, eyebrows raised. "Here?"

"Why not?"

"What about the cabin back home?"

He shrugged. "I'll sell it. Haven't been there in months anyway."

"And what about..." She trailed off, evidently realizing that there really wasn't much to keep him Earthbound. "What about us?" She asked quietly. "When will I see you?"

"Whenever you get down time," he answered. "Colorado's closer to this place than it is to D.C."

She looked over, eyebrows raised. "Three weeks on the Daedalus," she reminded him.

He made a dismissive gesture. "You kids'll find another ZPM by the end of the year." He was almost willing to bet on that.

"And if we don't?"

He shrugged. "Then I'll wait." The whole thing was just an idea anyway. "Long space voyages aren't really my thing."

She turned her gaze to the shadowy juncture between water and sky. "So I'm supposed to keep saving the universe while you hang out here and fish?"

"You know I would never ask you to give up your career."

"Sometimes I wish you would."

He shook his head. "Never gonna happen."

"I know, and deep down I'm glad. It's just... It'd be easier if you weren't always so damned understanding."

"That's me," Jack said with a smile. "Mister Understanding."

She pushed at him with her shoulder. "You know what I mean."

It had been late afternoon when Jack had come out, and now the sun was setting in a spectacular display of reds and oranges. While they watched the show, Jack wrapped his foot behind Sam's, and they swung their legs in tandem, the gentle back and forth motion synchronized with the lazy rhythm of the waves. Sam leaned against him but kept her back straight and her head up, steel and satin in a single trim package.

"You know," she said finally, without turning her head. "This would be a perfect place for a wedding."

Jack would've been less surprised if that giant piranha had leapt out of the water at them.

He cleared his throat. "Would you mind repeating that?" They'd tiptoed around the M- word for months, but neither one of them had quite worked up the nerve to tackle the subject head on. Now here she was, putting it out there in big neon letters.

He sensed the tension in her body. She was nervous. That made two of them.

"Why not?" she said, "I'm sure Doctor Weir could perform the ceremony."

He blinked. Elizabeth Weir. Marriage ceremony. Had somebody snuck some drugs into his beer while he'd been dozing? Aloud he said, "Wouldn't you rather have, I don't know, a priest or something?" Hell, even Thor made more sense than Elizabeth Weir.

"Honestly?" she said, her gaze flicking to him and then away, "I don't really care who does it. I just thought it'd be nice to have it here."

Somehow, in the space of a few seconds, they'd gone from the hypothetical to the specific. How had that happened? Not that he wasn't interested, by any means. He'd actually thought about it a lot. He just hadn't been able to find the right time to bring it up. Besides, there was that whole not wanting to come between her and her career thing. This was different, though. This was _her_ suggesting it.

"What about your family?"

"I don't know," she said. "It's something we'd need to talk about."

He reached for her hand. Despite the warmth of the evening, her skin was cold. "Sam," he said, "Look at me."

She turned her head, but didn't quite meet his eyes. Good enough.

"I'll stand by whatever you decide," he said.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

Reluctantly, Sam pulled her feet out of the water and stood up. "I should go. McKay wants to show off his latest project."

"Sam. Wait." She'd found the courage to bring the subject up. He couldn't just let her walk away.

"What?" she looked over at him.

He got to his feet and reached into his pocket. "I've, um... been carrying this around for a while," he said awkwardly. "This seems as good a time as any to give it to you."

He held out his hand, revealing half a dozen pennies, a bit of dryer lint, and a ring whose small diamond glimmered in the fading light. He picked out the ring and shoved the other items back in his pocket. Polishing it quickly against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, he held it out to her.

She stared at the ring, her eyes wide. "Jack, it... I didn't mean to..."

Sam Carter. Speechless. That alone made the near panic of this moment almost bearable.

"Been carrying it around for weeks," he said with a shrug.

"Why now?"

He gave her a half smile. "Seems like the right time."

"So... We're going public?"

"I think you have to actually wear the ring for that to happen," he said.

"And you're okay with that."

"Been okay with it. I was just waiting for you." He reached for her hand. "So?" He asked. "Are_ you_ okay with it?"

She nodded, and he slid the ring on her finger, feeling a distinct sense of relief.

She was his now, and while he knew that in many ways she'd been his (and he hers) for years, the ring made it official, and he took a deep breath as he looked up to meet her eyes.

"So," he said.

"So." Her smile was almost as wide as his, and he supposed the two of them looked a little silly, but he didn't care.

He bent his head, and she tilted hers, and he kissed her, and all was right with his world, no matter which galaxy they happened to be in at the moment.

Afterwards, he smiled down at her. "This calls for cake."

"I agree."

They collected his fishing gear and their shoes and turned to go. In their wake, the lights of the city slipped through the darkness to dance in their damp footprints.

_Bring me all of your dreams,  
You dreamers,  
Bring me all of your  
Heart melodies  
That I may wrap them  
In a blue cloud-cloth  
Away from the too-rough fingers  
Of the world._

By: Langston Hughes


End file.
